"Dad, have you seen my gloves or my whistle? I'm going to be late." Merilyn shouted down the stairs as she searched her room frantically. Today was her first practice as lead drum major. Her entire high school career had led her to today. As the first freshman in over thirty years to make it onto the podium, even on the back side of the stadium, it was even more impressive that she was still on it at all let alone taking the big one at center field. Her rust red hair and pale face would be the only connection most of the world had with the Bennet Serpent Marching Band.
"Dad, are you even listening?" She huffed as she rounded the bottom of the stairs. Like usual her father was sitting in front of the television watching the news.
"What did you need, Sweetie?" His face looked so genuine that it was impossible to stay mad at and sitting next to him on the table were the very things she was looking for.
"Dad, I've been looking for these for over an hour. You didn't hear me?"
"I told you I put them here last night before I went to bed. Do you want me to drive you?"
"No Dad, I've got it. Go back to your show."
She turned on her left foot and made her way to the door. Sitting in the grass was her 1999 Toyota Corolla. She had worked weekends and summers since she was fourteen just so she could have her own reliable car. Well it was a car at least. And it ran, mostly. The windshield wiper motor was spotty at best and the only air conditioning to be found was in the manual windows. Her grandpa Merl, who she was named after, had called it her four forty system. Four windows down at forty miles and the car stayed at least cool enough to survive. The windows weren't the worst of it though. Her radio only picked up one station no matter how perfect the dial was turned. So as she pulled out of the drive local news was her only source of non mechanical noise.
"In other local news, Dr Morgan was killed in a brutal cave collapse at Serpent's Hill. For reasons still unknown the pillars holding up the cave fell while she was working on the site." Merilyn tuned out the rest as she wound her way through the small town heading to see her favorite person.
Tristine, or Tris, as most people called her, was last year's color guard captain. This year she had volunteered as their new coordinator for the "experience" but Merilyn knew it was really just an excuse to spend more time doing the thing she loved. As she headed to the car her straight brown hair bobbed in time with her steps.
"Hey girl, you made it on time. Did putting your gloves on the table help like your dad said it would?" Her infectious smile made it hard to stay mad at her.
"It's like you just know. I totally forgot they were there."
"Your dad always puts important stuff where his remote goes. He has since we were kids."
"How is it you know this about my dad and I don't?"
"Oh that's easy, you have way more important things on your mind. And I like your dad way more than you do."
"Yeah, yeah. Do you have this year's routine down already? I gave you the charts for this year's songs almost a month ago." Merilyn hurriedly changed the subject. She didn't need to be reminded that she at least had a dad.
"Oh yeah. What I want to know is how you conned the directors into these songs. There's not a single boring choice here."
"The guidelines for the contest said they had to be songs in or based on musicals. So I just picked some I liked that would make for a good show."
The last turn into the band lot was a doozy. A massive pothole was perfectly placed in the lane to where a small car could barely straddle it. So many young girls used it to get new cars that at this point it was considered tradition. With practiced ease they made it around the corner and into the "Band Lot." They pulled into one of the closer spots and unloaded.
Flags and bags in tow they made their way over to the field. Practice didn't start for an hour but she wanted to be there before even the most eager freshman. On the other side of the gate they were met with an unpleasant surprise. The downside of starting practice on a Thursday. The sprinklers had yet to be adjusted and the field was not only soaked but steadily getting wetter.
Merilyn pulled out her phone, a cheap store one, and dialed Mr. Capeland.
"Um sir, did you know that the sprinklers are still going? It's so soggy. If we practice on this there won't be any grass left."
"I haven't been to the field yet. Are you sure it's that bad?" The frustration in his voice did not go unnoticed. With practiced ease she flipped the phone around and took a selfie of her feet in standing water and hit send.
"It's pretty bad. Do you want to go check the stadium? If nothing else it will give that awe factor to the new kids."
"You head over there, I'll call the coach and give them the heads up."
"Tris, we are heading to the stadium." She called. When she turned she could see the big grin on her face. Like everyone else they both remembered their first practice on the big field. Something about stadium seating made everything sound so much cooler.
"Let's get our stuff over there then head over to get the podium out. Looks like I'm going to need it today." She stumbled lightly as she started her way across campus.
It didn't cross her mind to look at the picture she had just sent Mr Capeland. But if she had, she might have noticed the hand in the water slowly reaching up to grab her.